Next To You
by DaNavi
Summary: This is a story inspired by a YouTube video. The two main characters both die.


_Prologue_

"Oh my god, Ángel, this wedding begins in 10 minutes! Where is your husband? This is the first gay wedding since the State's legalizing, and it may turn out to be a bust!" Pepp cried. Ángel looked at his cell phones. He'd called Miguel more than 10 times, and had received no answer, and had texted him more than 26 times, all in desperation.

"Pepp, you don't need to be so scared. He'll come," Ángel said tearfully. "Miguel must be stuck in traffic." Pepp scoffed and glanced at his cell phone.

"Hmph. Let's hope you're right, hon," he said. "Let's hope." Ángel sighed and walked out to the cathedral's stoop. An abnormally cold January breeze whipped about, ruffling his brown hair. Cars zipped by. Low clouds shrouded Los Angeles' skyline.

"Why aren't you here, ¿_mi amore?_" he whispered. A solitary tear meandered down his cheek. He wiped it away and glanced again at his phone. Still no answers. Pep suddenly came outside, carrying a coat.

"Sweetheart, if you are going to wait out here for him, at least put something warm on. Why don't you try calling him again, hmm? You never know," he said, gently wrapping Ángel in the coat. Ángel nodded and tapped the "Call" icon on the Start screen of his phone. He dialed Miguel's number again. It rang until the voicemail came. Ángel sighed and hung the phone up. "Damn, no answer?" Pepp asked. Ángel sighed and leaned onto Pepp's warm body.

"What if he has decided to ditch me? What if he has regrets? Oh, Pepp, there are so many questions that are unanswered," he explained sadly. Pepp sighed and put his arms around Ángel's body.

"Don't say that, _amigo_. He will be here soon. Don't you worry. We'll keep the wedding postponed until his arrival," he said. Ángel smiled and kissed Pepp's cheek. "Now, now, aren't you getting married?" Ángel reeled, embarrassed. "I'm only kidding!" Suddenly, Ángel's phone began to ring. He gasped and answered it.

"Miguel?! Sweetheart?" he asked into it. His face contorted in confusion at the other person's answer.

"Is this Ángel Remoras?" it asked. Ángel stared out into the Los Angeles skyline.

"Yes, it is. Is Miguel okay?" he asked. The person on the other line hesitated.

"Ah, ooh—I am a police officer from LAPD. Uh, your friend Miguel Torres, uh, he…" The police officer trailed off. Ángel gasped and prepared himself for the worst. "…He has been killed in a car accident." He was not prepared for that. Ángel almost dropped the phone. "The person intentionally ran into him head on, which sent Miguel through his windshield—even while wearing a seatbelt. The person was arrested. I am so sorry." Ángel dropped the phone, braking the back off of it. He fell to his knees, sobbing loudly. Pepp kneeled next to him.

"What happened, Ángel?" he asked quietly. Ángel looked up at Pepp tearfully. "Oh no," Pepp gasped. "Did he give up on you?" Ángel shook his head.

"I now know why he is not coming, Pepp," he said. Pepp cocked his head inquisitively. "He has been killed." Pepp's mouth dropped open.

"No. Really?!" he cried. Ángel continued to cry. Pepp helped Ángel up. Ángel regained posture, and pushed himself from Pepp.

"Goodbye Pepp. Call the wedding off. I am going home," he said, turning to leave.

"Ángel! Come on," Pepp said.

"_JUST GO!_ Go. I don't have the will to go on anymore," Ángel cried. Pepp gasped and jogged after Ángel.

"Woah, woah. You are going to _kill_ yourself?!" he cried. "¡_¿Est__a__s loco?!_" Ángel glared at Pepp.

"No. I am going to be with Miguel for eternity." Pepp groaned. Ángel bolted down the street to his car, and then zoomed off.

_"Ay, __¡__Dios ayúdame!_" Pepp cried. "I don't care if you want to be with Miguel for eternity. _I _don't want you dead."

_One_

"Thanks mom," Ángel Remoras said as he got out of the car and headed up to the front doors of the high school.

"I am going to be home late, Ángel. Dinner will be on your own, or you can go out with a friend if you'd like to," Mrs. Remoras said. Ángel waved in acknowledgment, and entered the huge doors of the building. Ángel's friend Ignacio greeted him.

"_Hola, Ángel_," he said. "What is up?" Ángel shrugged.

"Oh, the sky, the clouds, the ceiling. Not much. You?" Ángel asked. Ignacio stifled a bit of laughter.

"Well, did you hear about that new kid, Miguel Torres? He is quite the queer." Ángel scoffed, and looked at Ignacio despising.

"_Must_ you be a homophobe?" he hissed. "I mean really, it was you who'd kissed another guy in the eighth grade—and _LIKED_ it. Also, you are friends with a whole bunch of lesbians and with another gay guy." Ignacio reeled.

"I know about the lesbians, but who's the gay guy?! I am so not friends with Miguel!" he cried. Ángel groaned.

"Oh, come on! Have you not seen the signs?!" he exclaimed, gesturing to his whole person. Ignacio reeled. "Yeah, bitch, yeah." Suddenly, a crowd of people was coming down the call, exclaiming cruel, homophobic names.

"Huh. Here come's Miguel now," Ignacio said. Ángel gasped and walked over to the crowd, butting himself into the middle.

"Oi! Leave him alone!" he exclaimed. The crowd backed off a bit. A cheerleader bearing a necklaced crucifix scoffed.

"Why? He's gay," she said. Ángel looked at the girl in disbelief.

"Uh-huh, so? What's your point?" he challenged. Miguel smiled.

"Well, dah," the cheerleader continued. "As God has said, homosexuals are abominations, _and_ should be exterminated. But, of course, as law has stated, murder is prohibited. So, we compromise by giving him hell. You know, in preparation for Hell itself." Ángel reeled.

"Damn. Aren't you the preacher. God also said to 'love thy neighbor as thyself,' didn't he?" he argued. The cheerleader rolled her eyes.

"Well, homosexuals are exceptions," another crowd member said. The cheerleader nodded.

"Yeah! Thanks, Ricardo," she hissed. "Miguel is not even human! But anyway, if we don't leave him alone, what are you going to do about it?" Ángel opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a booming voice from down the hall.

"_He's_ not going to do anything. But _I _am! Disperse! Leave Mr. Torres alone!" the principal cried, harshly breaking through the crowd, which broke apart almost instantly. The principal smiled at Ángel. "That was a brake thing you did, breaking into that crowd. Thank you, Mr. Remoras."

"Ah, it was nothing. Anything to help a friend," Ángel said kindly.

"So you know each other?" the principal asked. Ángel began to speak, but was cut off by the principal. "Well, good. Miguel needs someone to lead him around the school. He, conveniently, has the same classes as you. Please? He will, I am sure, will greatly appreciate it." Miguel spoke up.

"Actually, I really would like that. Ever since I have got here, I have been verbally harassed by the students. But you seem like a nice guy, Ángel," he said. Ángel beamed.

"I'd love to lead you around the school!" The principal smiled and left the boys to themselves.

"Thank you for braking up that crowd. I was worried they'd become physical," he said. Ángel smiled and hugged Miguel warmly.

"Anything for anyone threatened by homophobia. Even if you're not truly gay, I will back you up against the 'phobes," he said happily. "Now. Shall we go to class?"

The lunch bell rang. Students flowed from the classroom, heading to their lockers. Miguel waited outside the chem class for Ángel. Ángel came out of the chem classroom, and smiled when he saw Miguel.

"Hey there. Y'wanna eat together?" Ángel asked. Miguel smiled, shyly blushing.

"Oh, sure. If you want to," he said. As they walked down the hall, people booed and hissed, calling homophobic names. "God. These people really hate gay people. Why?" Ángel scoffed and rolled his deep blue eyes.

"Oh, please, _amigo_," he muttered. "I have no fucking idea. Los Angeles is one of the most gay-friendly cities in the US, and yet they have one of the most _un _-gay-friendly schools in the US." Miguel sighed and opened the door to the cafeteria. All heads turned to look at the boys as they entered. They muttered amongst themselves, snickering. "Oh, and here we have the worst part of this school: the lunch room. Here, it's basically the African grasslands; eat, or be eaten." They walked up to the lunch-line. The lunch lady smiled as the boys came up. "You'll like Geraldine. She's the nicest lady in this whole hell-hole of a school. Hey Geraldine!" Geraldine nodded at the boys.

"How are we, y'all?" she asked. "I see you've brought a newbie, Ángel. Who's this cutie?" she asked. Miguel blushed and got some mashed potatoes.

"This, Geraldine, is Miguel Torres," Ángel said. Geraldine looked at Miguel inquisitively.

"I've heard 'bout you. How come I haven't seen you up here at the lunch line? You've been here for a month or so, 'aven't you?" she asked. Miguel frowned.\

"Well, I tried on the first couple days of me being here, but people shoved me out of the line, and I never got to get lunch. So I have been packing lunch ever since. I packed one today…I left it at home. It was a blessing to have Ángel here," he said. Geraldine beamed.

"Aww. How sweet. Ángel has always been the school sweetheart, being kind to everyone, no matter who they are," she said. "Now, how'd you boys like to have some of the last bit of steak?" She uncovered a basin filled with steak. The boys smiled and gladly accepted some. They went over to a table, at which a bunch of oddly dressed guys and girls sat.

"Miguel, welcome to what we lovingly call the 'Queer Table,'" Ángel said. Miguel frowned, confused.

"Why do you call it that?" he inquired. The types sitting at the table smiled and chuckled at Miguel. Ángel grinned.

"Well, every person sitting at this table is either gay/lesbian/bi-/trans or is a supporter of gay/lesbian/bi-/tans people. You are either/or or both. We don't care, and we won't ask—unless you want us to know," he said. The table-goers beamed as Miguel sat down.

"Welcome, newbie," a guy dressed in a _Project Runway _style outfit. His hair was dolled up insomuch that it looked like something from a fashion magazine. He had a smile that shone like the top of the Chrysler building. "My, aren't you handsome." Miguel blushed.

"Hi," he said shyly. A girl wearing a dark outfit smiled at Miguel, much resembling a cherub.

"Well, hi! I like you. You are so awesomely cute—but don't worry. I won't go for you. I already have a girlfriend." She began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Miguel, this is Max Russo and Carol McTwisp—yes. That is her last name. They both—as you may have already guessed—are gay. Then, this is Joaquín Alvarez-" Ángel pointed to a Latino with the same sort of style as Max. "This is Keniqua Smith. He—I mean she—is a Transgender." Keniqua smiled at Miguel. He smiled back. "Next, I would like to introduce you to Joseph Constable. He is not gay, but is bisexual." Joseph really just looked like a typical high school jock. "These guys and gals," he winked at Keniqua. "Are here for you in your time of need. I am included. We are here." Miguel's smile slowly spread across his face.

"I think I am going to like it here."

The final bell rang, signaling everyone to go home. Miguel waited outside the school's front doors for Ángel. Suddenly, a jocky guy from the crowd came over.

"What's up, fag?" he said. Miguel frowned and looked away.

"Hello, Román. How are you?" he asked flatly. Román smirked. He play-punched Miguel's shoulder.

"You have a girlfriend yet?" he asked. Miguel rolled his eyes and scoffed, walking away from the jock. Román followed. "Aww. We scared?"

"Oh, go away, Román. No one needs your homophobia. Shoo," Miguel said. Román scoffed.

"Oh, please. I am not wrong, am I?" Miguel groaned exasperatedly, walking quickly away from the jock. "Fine. Bye, bitch!" Román jogged off. Miguel sighed and sat down next to a tree. Suddenly, Ángel appeared.

"Hey there, buddy! Good day?" he asked amicably. Miguel smiled, but looked sadly down at his feet. Ángel frowned and put his hand on Miguel's back. "Uh-oh. It seems like it went rather rough. Do you need to vent?" Miguel groaned.

"Oh, Ángel! _Why _do we have to go to such an evil school?! All day, I have been bombarded by homophobia, harassment, etc.! Also, I learned a new word, and I have been speaking Spanish my whole life!" he vented.

"Oh my god. Was it _ma-_" Miguel cut Ángel off.

"It was _maricón, amigo,_" he said. "I looked it up on the Inter-webs, and apparently it is the Spanish equivalent of the English 'faggot!'" Ángel sighed sadly.

"Do you want to hang? You seem like you need company. 'The Queers' and I are going to see a movie tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to join. They insisted on my inviting you," Ángel said. Miguel beamed, and leaned back against the tree.

"I would love to. Thank you, Ángel!" Miguel hugged Ángel. Suddenly, "The Queers" walked over.

"Is he coming?" Max asked. Ángel nodded happily. Max squealed happily, and helped Miguel up and into a hug. "Yay! Welcome to the group, buddy!"

"What movie are we going to see?" Miguel asked.

"_Annabelle,_" Keniqua said. The color drained from Miguel's face. Ángel chuckled.

"Don't worry, _mi niño_," Ángel joked. "You can cuddle up to me if you get scared."

The movie theater was dark even before the movie began. Miguel sat closely to Ángel, who had his arm around Miguel's body.

"Scared?" Ángel asked. Miguel scoffed.

"What? Pshh! N-n-no! I am so not scared. Ha! What? No," he said. Ángel chuckled and laid his head on Miguel's shoulder.

"Aww, _pobre amigo_. Don't worry. The movie is supposedly rather cheesy," Ángel said. Miguel smiled. Suddenly, the movie previews began.

"Oi, _dios mio_," Miguel muttered in Spanish. Ángel snickered. The movie began.

"Holy shit. That was the most horrific movie I have ever watched," Miguel muttered as the movie theater re-lit. Ángel chuckled and led "The Queers" out of the theater. Keniqua, Max, Carol, and Joseph were all pale.

"Well, that was absolutely horrific. Is anyone as terrified as me?" Keniqua asked. The group nodded collectively. Ángel laughed.

"Hey, Miguel, are you busy tonight?" Miguel looked up at the ceiling in thought.

"No. Not at all. Why?" he asked. Ángel blushed and bit his lip. Max gasped and gushed.

"Awwwww! Aren't you cute? Come on, y'all. Let's leave these two to themselves," he whispered to the rest of the group. The group left the two alone.

"Well, I just wanted to invite you over to my house for a hangout. Maybe?" Ángel asked shyly. Miguel smiled.

"Hey. Why not?" Ángel smiled.

_Two_

"Dang. Nice house, Ángel," Miguel said as they entered the house. Ángel smiled and blushed.

"Aww, thanks buddy!" he gushed. "Now, let us go put our stuff into my room, and we can do something."


End file.
